


the girl in the mirror, i got to know her (the path's weathered and worn)

by n0rthern_l1ghts



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Depression, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-03 03:57:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2837201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/n0rthern_l1ghts/pseuds/n0rthern_l1ghts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Frank helps Laurel break down and Kan helps her put herself together again.</p>
<p>Trigger warnings for depression, self loathing, and self harm. Rated M (to be safe) for language and aforementioned TWs, not smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the girl in the mirror, i got to know her (the path's weathered and worn)

**Author's Note:**

> While this will almost certainly be entirely jossed with the first episode back from the break, I believe the characterization works with a reasonable reading of the text so far.
> 
> (title from Brandy Clark's "Hungover" and "Illegitimate Children")

She kept it together, kept a level head, kept her cool.  _He_ deserved to be punished, not them, and she was going to do her damndest to make sure none of them lost their futures (not over a man who had already robbed one woman of hers). But you can only compartmentalize for so long before you break. 

When Laurel finally breaks down, it's with Kan. (Who else could it be but the person she trusted the most, the person she'd wronged the most?) She's not surprised, really, when  _that_  Saturday night she winds up at his door, barely biting back tears. Because as much as she wants to break down in the arms of this man who she trusts and adores, she can't take any more guilt weighing on her soul right now.

She's here to  _break up_  with her amazing boyfriend. She  _has_  to. She just spent the last two weeks fucking a man she doesn't even  _like._ Daily. And no matter how many times she repeated her new mantras (He was a  _murderer_. An  _innocent_ girl may have gone to jail for his crimes. A girl that Wes trusts and more.) she would have flashes where she could  _feel_  his blood on her hands again.

"I can't be with you anymore. Or maybe you can't be with me," and she's trying not to sob, really she is. The  _last_  thing Kan needs is to  _console_ his cheating soon-to-be ex-girlfriend.

He stands back and lets her in, and it makes her want to scream and cry. It's  _safe_  in his apartment, and she doesn't know what might come tumbling out of her mouth if she feels safe (but maybe she'll be okay. She doesn't even know if she'll recognize  _safe_  anymore). They sit on the couch and he doesn't say a word.

Her hands are  _shaking_  again, and she feels it, sees it. Maybe it's a blessing in disguise, because suddenly she's not searching for the right words anymore. They're pouring out, anything to keep the words she is  _desperate_  to say from coming out, which, okay, maybe isn't the best thing right now. Her brain's a mile behind her mouth, and she doesn't know what it means because she has  _never_  said anything without thinking before.

"...and I'm  _horrible_ , you never deserved any of this, and you need to stay away from me..."

He brings his hand to gently cup her shoulder, and the words catch in her mouth.

"Laurel,who's dead?"

"What?"

"You said 'and now he's dead.' Who's dead?  _Him?_ "

"No, no, he's not--you would comfort me over the death of the man I cheated with?"

"Well, I can't say it's particularly high on my list of how I'd want to spend my time, but.... Look, I trusted you and you betrayed that. And yes, you're right, I can't be with you anymore. I thought you were so honest, and I don't know how I could ever trust you again, but I still care about you. I don't want to see you in pain, so please, Laurel, tell me what happened."

She knows she shouldn't say it, but just weeks ago she thought she was honest too, and she doesn't know when she'll be able to be honest again.

"I can't tell you. I want to, I do, but it's bad and it could get people in a lot of trouble, people who don't deserve it."

"I think you know that I would never want to get anyone who doesn't deserve it in trouble. I need some space, but if you need someone you can trust to talk to about this, I'll be there for you. I've seen the passion you have for protecting people, and that much I still trust. I'll do what I can to help."

And the thing is, she believes him. The same instinct that kept her calm the night before was all but begging her to tell Kan now. But-

"I...there are people who trust me. I can't betray them, not after-"

He nods. She leaves.

She goes straight home. Frank calls three times and leaves voicemails every time. She deletes them all without listening and turns her phone off.

 

* * *

 

Sunday is harder than she'd expected. Between nightmares waking her up hourly, guilt over everything she'd told Kan and the fact that she'd barely studied for the test coming up on  _Monday_  she was even more tired than she'd been Saturday. Barely ten minutes after she'd opened her books she heard Connor yelling as he knocked on her door.

His eyes were just as wild and panicked as they'd been the night of the-- _that_ night. She could barely keep up with the hysteria pouring out of his mouth, but she does gather that the police are back with more questions and they've all been trying to call her for half an hour at least, and oh shit, her  _phone_ , but she just cannot deal with that right now. She leaves it where it is and gets into, oh god,  _that_  car, and oh god, she can still see specks of  _blood_  all over it.

After what feels like hours of lying and skirting her head is buzzing and she finally slips off to get the coffee she's needed all day. 

Of course Frank is in the kitchen. Why break the string of bad luck she's had since Friday night now? And god, her head is  _buzzing_ , she hasn't had any coffee today, she got probably three hours of sleep total last night (and none the night before), she's been lying all day, she keeps seeing  _his_  body hacked into pieces, and Kan's "I thought you were so honest" is still ringing in her ears. She does  _not_  have it in her to do this right now.

That's probably why she kisses Frank hard and pushes him into a corner. At first it's just like it always was, with tongues and teeth and hands everywhere. Until he pulls away. (That's  _never_  happened before). He cups her face and there's something almost soft and hopeful in his eyes that she would like to believe she'd never seen there before. He opens his mouth to speak and  _no_ , she doesn't want to hear it, and she shoves her hand over his mouth before a word can come out.

"I'm not over it. I don't forgive you. I don't want to talk. I am not prepared for that exam, and I just need to turn my brain off for a little while. Can you help me with that?" (She pulls her hand back from his mouth and pushes both hands against her legs to still the shaking sparked by the familiar words). He's silent, appraising, and she thinks he's going to argue until that  _awful_  smirk slides back on his face.

"I'll take what I can get. Come home with me after this, I'll see what I can do to fix that."

And yeah, it helps. Her brain shuts off, just like it always does when she's with Frank (some sort of self preservation, she supposes), and he eats her out until she's blissed out and sleepy. Then he does it again the next three times she wakes up in a panic. That stupid smirk makes several appearances, but thank  _god_  he doesn't try to talk, because there's no way she could handle that.

Except to offer her a manila envelope with a copy of the exam and answer key inside. She throws it across the room.

He's sleeping when she finally leaves (at...oh man, how did it become 11:30, and she still hasn't studied?). She stops with her hand on the doorknob, then walks back across the room and grabs the envelope. She's not going to  _use_ it (oh, who is she kidding), and she knows he'll fucking  _smirk_  about it for hours, but that's a problem for later, and it's not like he needs to know if she does (seriously, who the fuck is she kidding. Of course he'll know).

* * *

 

She doesn't go home for Christmas. She tells her parents she has to work (another lie). She wants so badly to see them, to go back to a time and a place where she felt like  _herself_ , but she's not herself. Not anymore. And she just can't bear to think about being around people she loves, being around people who love her. She's not the woman they love anymore. She's dishonest, disloyal, and she has actual  _blood_ on her hands. So she calls Frank. 

And that's how she winds up spending Christmas with a man she despises (and she does despise him, she does. She reminds herself of it every day). He gives her a silver necklace, and she gives him harsh, bruising kisses any time a soft moment threatens to interrupt their day. (They happen anyways, of course. It's a holiday, and there's only so much desperate sex their bodies can handle. But those soft moments are about how he values the pragmatism she's shown and her willingness to lie, steal, and cheat to get what she wants, and she finds herself cherishing them. He sees her for what she's become, and she doesn't feel like a lie when he looks at her). 

If she were home, she'd be eating her mother's tamales and sitting around a roaring fire, next to their ten foot tall tree with her parents and siblings. Instead, she and Frank accidentally knock over his two foot tall tree while fucking, then eat takeout Chinese food on the floor after sweeping up shattered glass ornaments. The voices are quieter than they've been since  _it_ happened, and she almost feels at peace.  _Almost_. 

She slips out from under his arm and out of bed at 2 am and locks herself in Frank's car. He's been holding her gently in her sleep, and she feels like a fraud again. In the bed she was warm and caressed. In the car she's cold and alone. There's no doubt in her mind about which of those places she should be in. With her teeth almost chattering and her knees hugged to her chest she almost feels right again, like she could reach out and touch herself.

So she does. Fingers tinged with blue she pulls out her phone and calls Kan. He doesn't answer, of course. She didn't expect him to. She tells his voicemail.

"I washed his blood off my hands. I never thought it would be hot and sticky like that. I never thought I'd know what it would feel like. He's  _dead_ , but he was going to kill her, just like he...he would have killed her, and it's better him than her. I can't be telling you this, I shouldn't be telling you this. I  _promised_ , and...you don't deserve to be involved, and they don't deserve to go down for this, but you said...I don't know if I can do this alone."

She prays she'll be able to delete the message, but she can't help the sigh of relief from escaping when she can't. She goes back inside, but she pauses at the bedroom door. The peace dancing around the corners of her mind is different from the peace she felt earlier. It's a peace of feeling herself again. She puts her coat back on, walks home, and curls up in her own bed. The peace is only a whisper when she wakes up, but she'll take it. 

There's a text from Kan thanking her for opening up and telling her again that even though she'd broken his trust and their romantic relationship, she clearly needed a person to confide in, and he was happy for that to be him. That he'd have his phone on and with him in case she needed to talk, and he does still trust her judgement when it comes to helping people. It somehow makes everything better and worse at the same time. She doesn't reply.


End file.
